


Waiting for Superman

by ItzIzziieMonsta



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: Allison Lives, Derek remembers Stiles, Derek returns, Don't Like Don't Read, Ethan and Jackson return, Ethan remembers Stiles, F/M, I have no idea what else to tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Isaac Returns, Isaac remembers Stiles, Jackson remembers Stiles, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Mystic Falls Gang - Freeform, No Malia/Stiles, Oh lord don't judge my summary, Salvatore Sister, Self-made creatures, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Stiles is strong, The Forgotten - Freeform, The Other Side, The pack forgets Stiles, stiles is powerful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItzIzziieMonsta/pseuds/ItzIzziieMonsta
Summary: She’s talking to angels, counting the starsMaking a wish on a passing carShe’s dancing with strangers, falling apartWaiting for Superman to pick her upIn his arms yeah, in his arms yeahWaiting for SupermanWhen seen by a Ghost Rider, you are blanked from existence and taken to an old train station otherwise known as 'The Forgotten' or 'Limbo'. Stiles should have gone there, to The Forgotten. But there was a glitch in the matrix for many different reasons. Stiles ended up somewhere a little more...dead. Meanwhile, Derek, Isaac, Ethan and Jackson have a bomb for the Pack





	1. Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist

Spotify playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/user/14s.4.b/playlist/4mM86iJHMTQhefqOhguBnN?si=4tm5k7C-SXKd-JAGSMC-MA

Sycamore Tree ~ American Horror Story (Roanoke Nightmare)  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/rZeEmW6q-g0

Lost Boy ~ Ruth B. (Stiles' theme)  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/58TBZnvyGwQ

Losing Your Memory ~ Ryan Star  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/MBvs192TkwM

Believer ~ Imagine Dragons  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/9MJAg0VDgO0

Wating for Superman ~ Daughtry (Stiles/Avery: Savery [pronounced; Savourey] ship theme)  
Youtube:  
(Original): https://youtu.be/pbT3uvOl3Dk  
(Nightcore): https://youtu.be/rtYPIG8ePjE

Lala La La Lala ~ American Horror Story (Coven)  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/0LosIXte1V0

Slow Hands ~ Nail Horan  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/o5FzCz8NC58

Despacito ~ Luis Fonsi, ft. Daddy Yankee  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/ZuCa8kCYcj8

Classic ~ MKTO  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/4Ba_qTPA4Ds

Perfect (Duet) ~ Ed Sheeran, ft. Beyonce  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/or6p6659Jrg

Chasing Cars ~ Snow Patrol  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/GemKqzILV4w

Fix You ~ Cold Play  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/k4V3Mo61fJM

Say You Won't Let Go ~ James Arthur  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/0yW7w8F2TVA

Bonfire Heart ~ James Blunt  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/g1j1qwQQ8-Q

Kids (Acoustic) ~ OneRepublic  
Youtube: https://youtu.be/_ABcy1phak0


	2. Stiles Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue:  
> The ruins of what was once a son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in advance, I'm so sorry.

Chapter One: Stiles Lost Stiles remembered seeing them. How could he forget? They were the things that ruined his life, that sent him here. He could never forget their ugly faces. He couldn’t ever forget the things they had done to him, the confused look on his friends faces when he called out for help. They were blank eyes, they remembered nothing not even a glimmer of realisation of ‘Hey! That’s Stiles Stilinski! The hyperactive spaz!’ not even that. Just nothing. Empty as they looked at him worried and confused.

Stiles had remembered running around Beacon Hills like a headless chicken just looking for something—someone to prove his theory wrong. Even if someone just remembered his name it was good enough, just for someone to remember. He thought he had hit the jackpot when Stiles had seen him out in the streets ready to go on duty. Obviously, the older man had spotted Stiles in the crowd instantly relieving the teen. “Son, you okay?” He had asked Stiles, taking note of Stiles’ distressed actions and look. Also the fact that he was mid-way through a panic attack. Stiles had calmed down slightly at the term of endearment. _Thank god_ , Stiles had thought to himself, _Dad!_ He cheered to himself. His father remembers him! A smile stretched across his lips as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“Oh, thank God!” He breathed, obviously out of breath, but that didn’t stop him. “Thank God. Everyone’s forgetting. Everyone if forgetting everything…” He stammered out, frazzled as he couldn’t help but tremble at the memory of Scott and Melissa’s blank eyes. Stiles’ heart began to hammer, like it wanted to leap out of his chest and run away, leaving his body behind him like a traitor. His pale palms became clammy and sweaty, his breathing became laboured. Sheriff Stilinski reached out and supported the teen’s body by holding him by the biceps, keeping him from crashing to the ground.

“Okay, okay, slow down, slow down.” The voice of his father was soft and comforting, just like it had been all those other times before when Stiles had been in the midst of a panic attack. “We’ll figure this out together.” The older man assured him. Taking a deep breath, Stiles nodded and managed to ground himself enough to respond with a weak ‘Okay’. “Now, why don’t you tell me your name?” And everything had collapsed again into total panic. The relief Stiles’ had felt before had come tumbling down and panic had begun to resurface. Stiles was unsure what we going to say then so he stood for a few moments, taking a few breaths and found himself shaking his head and repeatedly murmuring ‘no’ over and over again to himself in a furry of movements before spinning on his heel and charging away.

The last person to have ever remembered him in his own home of Beacon Hills was someone he had been hopelessly in love with for years. The one who rivals his own intelligence and snark for the purpose of looking like the popular girl when she could easily rival for valedictorian. Remarkably, the two had become moderate close friends after the whole bite thing with Scott and especially after the Nogitsune and the Banshee epidemic; the two had begun to try each other a little more. Or at least, she trusted him a bit more.

“I won’t,” She had whimpered, tears filling her eyes. “I won’t, I won’t.” She had tried to promise. She had promised but it was a promise the two both knew she couldn’t keep but it wasn’t her fault. It was theirs, all their fault, so Stiles didn’t blame Lydia in the slightest. Her brown eyes were glossy and wide, painted with salty tears. Stiles had only smiled back sadly in response.

“You will,” He told her. “You’re going to forget me. Just like all the others did. Find some way to remember me,” He pleaded “Remember that I love you.” Were his lasting words to her before he felt it. His hand that was pressed against hers with the fingers intertwined were ripped away from each other. Rough hands had launched out from behind him, latched onto his arms and the side of his torso before yanking towards where the hands had come from. Lydia had screamed a haunting banshee call, one that Stiles would never forget himself but he knew what had come to take him. Ghost riders, they were called. One look at them and they would erase you from existence and from the minds of everyone you have ever cared about or everyone that has ever cared about you.

They were grotesque. Their skin was distinctly blue with shallow eye sockets holding no eyes. The skin was stretched over where the absent mouth was sometimes covered by the bandana tied around their necks. They were the sheriffs of the supernatural, if you will, wearing everything resembling the cowboy look and even the horse to match. Out of impulse, Stiles squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he felt a hand wrap around his neck. He couldn’t tell you how he felt for a few seconds after feeling that stranglehold. It was just nothing like he had ceased to exist for a moment. The feel tumbling in his stomach disappeared, every thought he had vanished, he couldn’t feel his own body dangling from the floor and he could no longer feel his back being pressed up against the side of his own jeep where Lydia and he were sat previously. Nothing.

And then there was light again, but it was confusing. Stiles’ opened his eyes and looked around with whiskey coloured curious orbs. Where he was, was somewhere new. Completely new a place he didn’t recognise. He knew he wasn’t in Beacon Hills anymore, he knew every nook and cranny of that small Californian town. So he could easily deduce he wasn’t in Beacon Hills; California was another story. Trees surrounded him, the golden sun bouncing off each individual leaf making them a much more luscious green colour to what he thought could exist on trees. Stiles was fairly sure the same green colour was bouncing off his pale skin seen as he was pale enough to reflect it. The same coloured grass had enveloped and caressed the curves of his tatty sneakers as he stood in, what he could safely assume being a forest. Birds chirped and the place seemed peaceful. But peaceful was far from Stiles' mind right now.

I don't know where I am, he thought to himself.

"I don't know where I am..." The quiet whimper had come from somewhere followed by heart-wrenching sobs. It too stiles a moment to figure out they came from his own chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T KILL MEH PLZ!


	3. Chapter Two: As I Lay Awakened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. STILES HAS NOT WOKEN UP; HE'S STILL FAINTED.  
> Stiles wakes up, but where is he? And who is this beside him?

"Hey!" The voice was boyish, youthful through the darkness that clouded his mind, vision and other senses. "Hey, wake up, please? C'mon. I need to know you're okay, man. Open your eyes."

It hurt, Stiles knew that much about what was going on. He was in pain and it was a familiar type of pain. The pressure of a weight from a million weights pressing down on his head and chest, burning only to take one simply breath while said brain feels ready to explode. All Stiles wanted was peace, the peace of opening his mouth and finally taking that dreaded breath. Stiles was drowning. He didn't know what in but he was drowning.

But something was stopping him. Halting his actions from taking that breath, the one to end everything. Just like Morrell said, something was causing him to fight. Fight for those last few seconds of pain, of the thing that made him sure he was still alive and fight for rescue. Something was causing him to, at all costs, avoid parting those lips and taking the breath of death.

"Please...?" The voice, though weaker broke through again, and even if the toner was weaker it burst through louder than it would be if it was screamed into a megaphone right into the Stilinski boy's ear. It was that which forced his eyes open into the blinding light and force his lips to suck up like a vacuum any available oxygen into his lungs. The boy next to him smiled brightly and cheered to himself. "Yes! Breathe!" And so, Stiles did. Gaining a pattern again. In and out. In and out. In and out. Stiles was alive once more.

Blinking away the crust in his eyes, the bright light that blinded him dimmed and turned into a more humane and likely setting than a background of white light. The place was ancient, the floor made of stones with tables and shelves covered in candles with flames meters higher than was physically possible. By the fact that Stiles was staring up at the cold dark ceiling, he could guess he was laying down easily and the boy whose voice had broken Stiles awake was kelt beside him. Stiles spluttered, still getting used to the feeling of oxygen and life coming back to him.

"Wh-where am-where am I?" He wheezed out between coughs, his throat desert dry. Letting his whiskey coloured eyes wander around the room in fear, contemplating in his mind whether or not to get closer to the boy for safety seen as he was the only one who seemed to know what was going on or shuffling away and not trusting him. "Who are y-y-you?" He stammered. The boy's returning smile was reassuring.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's gonna be okay. You're okay, see?" Indicating down to Stiles' unharmed body, the boy used that as evidence he wasn't any danger. "My name's Jeremy. Jeremy Gilbert. And you're...we're...what's yours?" Stiles looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Name. What's your name?"

"Stiles." The mole-littered boy responded. "I'm Stiles Stilinski. Now tell me where we are. Please. I don't know how far from home I am..." Stiles rattled off excuses, but none of them was valid. The only valid excuse was to get back home and find some way to make the others remember him. Until then, he had to put his faith in Lydia. Jeremy's eyes turned sympathetic.

"It's-it's hard to explain." Jeremy attempted. "Just know you're quite far from home. Where we are...it's somewhere  _certain_  things go. To be perfectly honest, I don't think either of us should be here-"

"And where is here?" Stiles finally demanded. "I don't care if it's hard to explain. Game of Thrones, that's complicated. Shower sex, that's complicated. This-" He gestured around him. "-no. This ain't complicated. So tell me, Jeremy, where is here? Where are we?" Jeremy remained silent a moment, unsure. "I'm here too. I have a right to know."

"Yeah." Jeremy agreed with a sigh. "You do. I'm sorry, I'll try and explain as good as I can what I know. We're in what's called The Other Side, it's where-God, this is going to sound crazy- where supernatural creatures go when they die." Stiles kept silent, blinking only at the brown haired, brown eyed boy who looked about a year younger if not the same age as Stiles himself.

"And we're...dead?" Jeremy nodded. "But-but that doesn't make any sense!" And instantly, Jeremy looks exasperated. "I'm not supernatural! The others are! I've-I've never been supernatural!" Instead, Jeremy turned intrigued as opposed to his tired look earlier.

"Others?" Was the first thing Jeremy questioned before the penny seemed to drop and realisation crossed his features. "You-you know-?!"

"About the supernatural?" Stiles' question was sarcastic enough. "Yeah. I've known for a while. About three years now? My best-" He stopped in his tracks, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Some people I know, they're werewolves. Amongst other things. And you?" Jeremy shrugged.

"Sister got mixed up in it with her boy toys." Jeremy shook his head, standing and holding his hand out to help Stiles up. Stiles took the offered hand and clambered to his feet trying to ignore the large splodges of black ink that decorated his vision only to vanish when he blinked and return when his eyes opened again. "So what happened to you? How did you...you know, die?" Stiles sighed with a shrug and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't think I was meant to," Stiles admitted. "Something must have gone wrong. There are these-these things. They're called Ghost Riders," Stiles explained. "One look at them and they remove you from existence, from the memories of your friends. Scott-my best friend; the werewolf- he doesn't remember me. And-and my dad doesn't either. The last person to remember me was Lydia-she's a banshee. I bet you she doesn't even remember me, now." Sorrow loomed over Stiles' face. "I'm alone." Silence held for a moment before a rough warmth was pushed down on Stiles' lanky shoulder.

"No. You're not alone," Jeremy reassured. "my sister and I, we know some vampires and my girlfriend's a witch. We can help you, Stiles, I promise." Stiles could only respond at that point in time with a nod as he tried to blink away the glossy tears hanging in his eyes. "I don't know what happened to me, it's all a bit fuzzy. I think- I think I was shot. Not intentionally but, yeah, I think so." Stiles' eyebrows creased as he nodded and slapped Jeremy's arm in a 'bro' move if you will. Jeremy grinned back at him.

Suddenly, the door to the room busted open, and in came three new (though, only two were actually new) bodies, only two of them with beating hearts. Stiles and Jeremy looked over in time to see a gelled-brown haired and blue eyed man rush in with a limp body in his arms which he then laid on the ground. An olive-skinned woman, the same age as Stiles by the youthful looks she possesses, came in behind him with tears streaking down her face as he knelt by the body. Jeremy's body. Stiles' wide eyes turned to the teenage boy.

"Huh. No offence, man, but death does you no favours." Stiles' comments cheekily, his eyes scanning the dark circles around Jeremy's closed eyes which contrasted with his paper-pale skin and lifeless short hair that seemed to droop. Jeremy dropped his hand completely from Stiles' shoulder and rolled his eyes, though the smile on his face was fond. Stiles was surprised internally, even when he teased Scott like this, Scott's eye rolls were genuine annoyance as compared to Jeremy's amused.

"Good!" Jeremy laughed. "I'm glad! I'd rather  _not_ die again." Jeremy looked over the ongoing scene, the smile on his face dropping as he looked at his girlfriend who found herself hunched over his body. Walking over, the teenager had tried to stroke her hair only to look heartbroken when it seemed to have no physical effect. "Bonnie..." He whispered, voice distraught.

"I'm sorry." Was all Stiles found himself saying in remorse and sympathy for the young man.

"Is this even possible?" The brown-haired man, the alive one, asked Bonnie. Bonnie manoeuvred Jeremy's body so his heavy head rested in the teenage girl's lap on her legs. She nodded, sniffling.

"Th-there's a spell for it." She responded, her voice surprisingly full of confidence for a time like this. "If they'll give me the power to use it." She doubted. Jeremy looked sorrowful.

"Bonnie." He whispered to her, both dead boys knowing full well however that they couldn't be heard. "Please, don't do this spell, Bonnie. You'll only hurt yourself." Regardless, the girl closed her eyes and began to chant in a language Stiles didn't know or understand. Jeremy turned to Stiles. "She's trying a spell to bring me back. If it works, I'll be alive again. I'll find a way to bring you back. You weren't meant to come here, you weren't meant to die from what you've said so there's gotta be a way to bring you back." Stiles nodded, eyes wide and surprised though his mind was numb. "I promise I'll get you back and then we can get rid of those Ghost Riders."

The room began to shake, the candles burning miles higher than they were a moment ago as disembodied voices began to whisper around the room.

_Victus Phasmatis Ex Eleto. Revertas Phasmastis Ut Victus. Victus Phasmatis Ex Eleto. Revertas Phasmatis Ut Victus._

"Who knows," Jeremy continued, having to shout over the voices. "maybe it will bring you back too!"

_Victus Phasmatis Ex Eleto. Revertas Phasmastis Ut Victus. Victus Phasmatis--_

Suddenly, Bonnie stopped chanting and opened her eyes wide and panicked.

"No." She whispered, shaking her head. "No. No! No! No!" Jeremy looked down at Bonnie, coming to stand beside Stiles once again to get a better view of the incident that was taking place.  The door flew open again, Stiles found himself alone turning his head to the door and watched her run in. At least, he could guess she was running as she was only a blur to Stiles' eyes.

"Avery," Jeremy whispered, looking at her with relief taking note of the little damage to her but the rip in front of her shirt by her stomach where he remembered a stake had been earlier. "She's alive. The council didn't- they didn't- oh, thank god."

Though he knew it was the wrong time and place, Stiles found himself admiring the girl. She was a beautiful young woman with bright red hair and a slim build around five feet five with bright, glowing green eyes filled with age made wisdom. She was wearing dark clothing, a well kept black leather jacket though the style was easily recognisable as a nineteen-eighties style. Her black, form-fitting shirt was torn and crusted with dark red dried blood but it showed skin underneath that didn't even look touched. Her black skinny jeans and ankle boots with a heel were untouched and looked in mint condition. The only part Stiles was weary about of this girl was the smudge of dried blood around the red head's mouth. Stiles could have made the link between the girl, Avery, and Lydia, his lifelong love who would never love him back, but he could say in all honesty that he didn't. He found himself looking at Avery. Not Lydia Martin. Avery.

"Hey," her voice was like music as she stalked closer to the two living members of the room and coming to stand beside the brown-haired man. "is-is he...?" She found herself trailing off with a gulp as he shook his head and she looked down at Jeremy's soulless body.

"They're angry at me for coming back here." Bonnie sobbed. "They don't wanna help." The man (Stiles was getting pretty fed up with calling him this) looked shocked while Avery found outrage scrolling through her face.

"Well, they have to!" The man demanded. Avery found herself closing her eyes and shaking her head before looking the way she came. Recollection suddenly stormed through her eyes as she blurred out of the room, only to return once again with a body over her shoulder that she lay down a few meters away from Jeremy's own. Stiles looked dumbstruck as Jeremy glanced over at his "dead-buddy".

"They said they'll be consequences." Bonnie whimpered in response as they continued. The brown-haired man watched Avery's back as she knelt beside the second body's head and used one of her long nails to slice her wrist open, trying to push the blood into the mouth.

"What's she doing?" Stiles asked, rubbing his throat as he watched the display.  Jeremy's eyes were as wide as saucers as he watched the display too.

"She's- she's giving her blood." He explained. "A vampire's blood can heal people but that's way out for Avery. She never does that unless she has to."

"Well, he's just a kid. Tell 'em to shut up!" The man demanded as he walked forward and knelt beside Avery when Bonnie started to chant again. "Who is he?" The redhead only shrugged.

"I don't know." She admitted, watching him with green eyes. Stiles found himself slowly stepping forward to join them. "I found him outside the boarding house where I was staked. No pulse and no puncture wounds. I don't know how he died, but he did...I felt sorry for him, I guess."

Stiles examined the body. The lean body of medium stature with even paler skin that was decorated with moles and familiar dark purple circles around the eyes, the greasy brown hair and the dirty condition the plaid clothing and dark wash jeans with converses were in. Stiles found himself gulping. He was staring at himself. His own body.

His own dead body.

But how the hell had it gotten here? From Beacon Hills to wherever he was now?

The building began to shake again as Bonnie's nose started to bleed nastily. Jeremy's screams of 'No!' were drowned out by the rattling walls. The candles started to burn again. Avery flipped her head around, looking with apprehension and noticing that the wound on her wrist had healed. Stiles would have been in awe of the fast healing attribute if he hasn't spent so much time with werewolves before. What Stiles was in awe of was the fact that Avery quickly leaned forward and grabbed Stiles' head and tucked it into her hunched over body only to hunch further. It took a moment for Stiles' to realise she was trying to protect him from the candles or any falling debris.

"Emily." Bonnie called out. "Emily! I know you're there. Please help me. I love him." The whispering once again began to die out and the candles began to extinguish. Avery looked around with a glare at the air. "No!"

"You can't do this!" The girl yelled. "He's a child! You're all about innocence! He's innocent! You  _bitches!_ " But her anger didn't help. The house came to a standstill and all the candles were out. Bonnie looked to a motionless Jeremy as she began to cry. Stiles stood and turned wanting to ask Jeremy what now but as he looked around, he realised Jermey wasn't there.

"Jeremy?" Was the only thing Stiles could say. But then something happened. Stiles' throat got tighter and tighter, he couldn't even speak. All he could think about was breathing.  _Breathe! Breathe! You have to breathe!_ It demanded of him but he just couldn't comply. He couldn't breathe. He needed to breathe!

And everything went black once again for Stiles.


End file.
